Third Time's the Charm
by Ruby Jolie
Summary: EXTRA CHAPTER ADDED. Three times Barbara tried to run from Jason, and one time she almost succeeded.
1. Chapter 1

For you Barbara/Jason shippers, I made a video for them :) the link is on my profile, feel free to check it out!

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 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Gotham or its characters.

 **Author's note:**

Setting is AU in which Gordon was never able to track down Jason with a crappy drawing *eye roll*

This story is not connected to my other Barbara/Jason story _Willing Captivity._ This story is rated M for mature contents…

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 **1**

 _She let out a weak laugh. "You think that me making you murder someone will make me like you? That's insane."_

She'd been close to her breaking point, but her head had been clear as far as love was concerned. She'd clung to him unreasonably close, but she'd known that she didn't love him (she'd probably hated him). At all.

 ** _One – Some Time After Her Parents' Murder_**

Barbara couldn't sleep.

Odd thing was: she was not bothered by the murder itself. The blood, the violence, the horrified looks that her parents had given her, it'd all given her a rush of vengeful satisfaction.

There was no guilt, or grief, but she could not fall asleep.

She would have the wildest sex with Jason and be completely worn out, yet still stared at the infinite darkness in the dim room for the entire night, acutely awake.

Then one night she could take the insomnia no more.

"Jason," she whispered in the dark, "can I have a sleeping pill?" Then she added, "Please?"

Jason propped himself up on an elbow and turned on the lamp. "Still can't sleep?" He murmured.

Barbara nodded, her eyes red-shot and rimmed with dark circles.

"Poor thing," he said softly and kissed her forehead, treating her like she was his _girlfriend._ Just a normal, willing, girlfriend. "I'll get you one."

When Jason came back and handed her a tablet, she popped it into her mouth and ran it down with a glass of water, her shackles clanging around her wrists.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." Jason turned out the light and pulled her against him. Barbara was eternally grateful when sleep finally claimed her, and a striking thought occurred to her as she teetered between wakefulness and sleep.

Maybe…just maybe the sleeping pills had even better use than that.

.  
.

Jason had promised her that he'd set her free, but he'd failed.

Since the murder of her parents she felt more trapped than ever. She did not regret killing them, but she was angry, _so_ angry that she felt almost claustrophobic.

"Dinner looks nice. Thank you," Jason commented.

The corners of Barbara's mouth lifted up into a compliant smile, the smile fake and practiced. "Try the soup. It's the one you like."

Jason brought a spoonful of soup towards his mouth, and Barbara held her breath, her eyes wide and expectant.

Then abruptly he paused and looked up at her. Barbara started, her heart hammering loudly in the unnerving silence.

Jason put down his spoon and slowly pushed his soup towards her, and pulled _her_ soup towards himself. He gave her a charming smile. "Yours looks better."

Stunned by the turn of events, she forced her smile to stay on her face. "That's silly, they're the same."

Jason shrugged mischievously and tasted the soup. "Hmm. The soup does taste good."

Barbara gave an uncomfortable laugh. "Well, I'm glad you like it."

She proceeded to eat her mashed potato.

"Eat your soup. It's going to be nasty when it gets cold."

"Oh…" Barbara pulled the soup in front of her, a small frown creasing her brow.

"What's wrong?" Jason asked, his head tilted.

Barbara cleared her throat. "Nothing. I'm just not really hungry."

"Well, have some soup. Or are you going to make me eat alone?" Jason put down his spoon with a clank, his face displeased.

Barbara swallowed the tight knot in her throat nervously. "I'll have some." She reluctantly brought spoonfuls of soup into her mouth, one after one, her heart progressively sinking into a never ending depth of fear.

She knew that she was _very_ sleep deprived and tired, and the kind of sleeping pills that Jason gave her was strong, one single tablet would work wonders on her.

She hadn't put just one.

The rest was darkness.

.  
.

Barbara screamed and gasped, coming awake as she felt a sharp pain between her legs. _Oh God what the fuck is happening?_ Her head was groggy and painful, like she was having a hangover. There was a body on top of her, and she shrieked again when the pain between her legs didn't stop. She finally registered that she was naked and having sex, and the body on top of her was not gentle at all.

"Jason, it hurts, it hurts…" she pushed at his chest weakly. Her body could not prepare itself for his invasion while she was in a slumber.

And it surprised her when Jason ignored her and kept slamming into her, ripping her apart. He'd _never_ hurt her like that. _What the hell did she do?_ Still disorientated, she clutched his shoulders as painful tears escaped her eyes. "Please…stop, you're hurting me, please…please, did I do something wrong?"

Jason stopped and looked down at her in enraged disbelief, his cock still buried deep inside her. "Did. You. Do. Something. Wrong?"

Barbara took the chance to catch her breath, panting, and her eyes widened as memories rushed back to her. She'd tried to spike his soup, and had unfortunately eaten the soup herself.

He saw the fright in her eyes and knew she remembered. "Did you think I wouldn't notice that you've been asking for sleeping pills for the past three days but you never fell asleep? I gave you sleeping pills because I saw you struggling to rest. I've done nothing but love you, and this is how you repay me." His eyes were cold, furious.

Barbara bit her lip and breathed hard, her chest heaving. _But how did he know it was the soup? How did he know she would do it tonight? Can he really read her that well?_

Jason looked thoughtful for a second. He took a deep breath, then his expression turned from angry to calm. "Perhaps I've made a mistake." He moved to withdraw himself from her.

Barbara shuddered in alarm. _Mistake_. She knew the moment he pulled away from her would be the finality. He would be convinced that she was not _the one,_ then there would be only one outcome for her.

She jumped up quickly to wrap her arms around Jason's neck, and they both moaned as he was pushed deeper inside her. He grabbed her arms to try to push her away.

"Please, listen, let me explain. I know I was wrong…I know that now. I was, I was just scared because…" Barbara's mind turned quickly, _she had to think fast_ , "because no one has ever loved me before."

Jason stopped pulling at her arms, so she knew he was listening.

She hugged him closer. "I…even my parents could not love me, everyone in my life either abandoned me or didn't want me. So I thought…how could anyone ever love me?"

To her own surprise, tears started rolling down her cheeks. Either she was a very good actress, or she actually meant her words.

She thought she was a pretty good actress.

"When you told me you loved me, I didn't know what to do. I didn't believe you, so I tried to spike your food and run away…I'm sorry," she blinked her tears away and said quietly.

Jason wrapped his arms around her, soothingly brushing his thumb over her shoulder.

Barbara exhaled in relief. _God, that was close._ "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." With each apology she kissed his cheek, his jaw, and finally his lips.

Jason cupped the nape of her neck and murmured against her lips, "And you believe me now?"

"Yes, I do. I believe you," she said, her face repentant, "Will you forgive me?"

"No more sleeping pills for you, that's for sure." He stroked her hair away from her face, then he whispered huskily in her ear, "Does it still hurt?" He thrust his hips up experimentally.

Barbara whimpered. She nodded truthfully. Her head was still pounding dully from the sleeping pills, but she knew better than to deny a serial killer sex when he was already inside her anyway. She kissed his earlobe. "Make me feel good, please."

Before she melted in his tenderness she told herself next time, she'd have a better plan.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gotham

 **Author's note:** Yeah…season two has already started and I'm still pissed that the Ogre died *rolls eyes at self*

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 **2**

 _Two_ — _second time's a fiasco_

No more sleeping pills turned out to be a more severe punishment than Barbara'd thought.

She was fatigued; she was irritable; her headache was killing her but she still had to smile like a pretty doll, be in his good graces.

Ironically, it was when Jason curled up in bed with her that she was able to get small amount of sleep. Even so, with the constant waking during the night, even that little sleep seemed more exhausting than restorative.

Still, she played her part and acted as the perfect girlfriend. She took care of the apartment when Jason was gone, made sure that everything was speckless and tidy when he returned; she cooked his favourite food; she smiled and be sexy for him.

Submission might be a weakness, but it could also be a strategy.

.  
.

Barbara whimpered in pain when Jason took her hand in his.

Jason looked down at her hand and frowned. "What happened to your hand?"

The area between her hand and wrist was red and swollen. The skin was flaky and a blister has formed. "It's nothing," she assured, "just burned myself in the kitchen today."

Jason left the couch and walked into the kitchen. Barbara heard the opening and closing of the cabinet, and a small smirk appeared on her lips. She hid her smile as soon as Jason came back with the first aid kit.

"It's really not a big deal…"

"You could get an infection if you don't treat it," Jason said with disapproval. He held his hand out and Barbara obediently placed her hand in his. He tried to push her shackle away from the area and she hissed.

Jason looked up at Barbara, her face furrowed with pain. He paused for a moment and Barbara could see him debating.

Then he pulled out a key from his pocket and unlocked the shackles.

 _Yes!_

Barbara strained to keep her breaths even and her face neutral, not betraying any excitement, though she could feel elation coursing through her veins. Some minor burn, she'd pressed her hand to the cooking pot and it was well worth the effort.

Her attention was drawn back when she felt a cool sensation on her hand. Jason was applying some kind of ointment on her burn with a Q-tip. His hand that was holding her arm was warm, his motions were gentle and his expression was serious.

Faint amusement curved her lips. He really did have a soft spot for her, didn't he? People said psychopaths had no emotions, but from what she saw, Jason had too many, and he turned from one extreme to another with such ease. It was baffling.

Jason finally covered her burn with a gauze and secured it with tape. He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it softly.

"Thank you for taking care of the place, of me," he murmured, his eyes affectionate, and suddenly Barbara felt a twinge of undesirable fuzziness rolling from her core to her very fingertips.

She cleared her throat slightly. "My pleasure."

"I'm going to an opening event for a wine club tomorrow night. You don't have to cook dinner, take some rest," Jason said.

"Wine club?" Barbara feigned interest. "Can I come with you?"

Jason looked indecisive for a moment, surprised that she'd asked. Granted, now that he thought about it, the other women never really had a long enough coherent conversation with him. "No, not this time. Maybe next time."

It was too soon. He needed a little more time…for her to prove that she deserved his trust.

"Don't wait up, I want you to try to get some sleep," Jason said. His tone was soft, but Barbara could hear the authoritative note in it.

"Okay," she crawled onto his lap and rested her head on his shoulder.

The image of a perfect, submissive girlfriend.

The moment Jason left the apartment, Barbara took action.

She took the crowbar from Jason's kill room and brought it to the front door. She then stuck it between the door and the door frame and started prying. It was harder than she'd thought it'd be. She pushed the crowbar away from herself and it slid out of place, scratching the door loudly.

Barbara panted, her heart thumping erratically and her temperature rising. She wedged the crowbar into the gap and tried again, pushing as hard as she could. If she couldn't get the door open after all, Jason would kill her once he returned and saw the scratch marks and dents on the door.

And. She. Refused. To. Die. Here.

She clenched her teeth and forced the crowbar down, the metal hurting her palm. After several attempts the door finally popped open.

Barbara panted heavily and watched the open door with awe. Exhilaration filled her once she registered that it was _really_ happening. She was free.

So she grabbed her purse and ran.

.  
.

There was no place for her in Gotham.

A major serial killer of Gotham was after her, and she could not turn to the police, for she had murdered as well.

The first thing she did once she left Jason's apartment was call a cab and head straight home. She needed money and her IDs, then she'd head to the airport and take the next available flight. To anywhere away from the Ogre's reach.

Adrenaline rushed through her body as she barged into her own apartment. She hurried into her bedroom and searched through the drawers. "Damn it," she muttered, "where did I put it?"

 _"What're you looking for?"_

It was a male voice. The voice was deep and smooth, quite pleasing to the ears, but Barbara gasped and froze in place at once, her heart pumping blood furiously in her state of panic.

She drew in several short breaths and turned around, and Jason leaning against the wall came into her sight.

He was wearing the same outfit that he wore to the wine club opening event. How'd he known that she'd escaped?

Jason saw the question in her eyes and held up his phone. "Alarm. The alarm is triggered when someone breaks in the apartment, or, in your case, when someone breaks out of the apartment."

His eyes were dark and unfathomable. "So, tell me what you're searching for." He put down his phone and held up a bunch of cards, and Barbara felt a paralyzing chill spread through her veins. Jason tossed each item onto the floor one by one. "Passport, driver's license, social security card…you looking for these?"

Barbara thought she'd faint. So fast, so easy, her escape plan had come to an end. How foolish of her to think that she could escape so simply. Letting her roam around the apartment freely, shackles off. He probably had cameras in the apartment too.

Jason slowly advanced on her, predatory. "I'm very disappointed in you, Barbara. I thought I could trust you. One simple test, and you failed it." His voice was deep and intense, cutting through her like a knife.

Barbara backed away from him like a frightened rabbit. Her back hit the cupboard and she grabbed the vase on top by instinct.

In an instant Jason rushed upon her. He held her wrist on the shelf in an iron grip, his eyes narrowed in anger. "You never learn, do you? All I ask is your obedience and you choose the hard way _every_ time."

Before she could say anything he gave her wrist a hard twist, bending her arm behind her back, Barbara cried out in pain as the vase hit the floor with a loud crash.

Both of them gave the shattered vase a reflexive glance, and uncertainty appeared on Jason's face at what he saw.

Barbara grabbed the chance as fast as she could.

"I'm sorry, Jason, but I really needed it...I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat..." She clutched her painful shoulder, where her arm was still being held down against her back by Jason.

"I guess I was just too afraid to tell you because I didn't want you to see what I truly am, a junkie," she said with shame on her face.

Jason regarded her dubiously, then he kicked the broken pieces of the vase aside, revealing a small bag of marijuana joints.

"I told you once you saw the real me, you'd run the other way screaming. Go ahead, you wouldn't be the first one," Barbara whispered with the same resentment that Jason had seen in her before.

He gave her a long, searching gaze then let go of her and picked up the drugs. Then he pulled out a joint and placed it between his lips, and proceeded to light it up with a lighter as he sat down on the sofa.

He dragged in a deep intake of smoke. "And I told you you didn't need to hide yourself from me. I'm not James Gordon." He tossed the weed and the lighter to Barbara, and beckoned her to sit beside him.

Barbara walked towards him, her legs weak and wobbly. She couldn't believe she _actually pulled that off._ She suppressed a hysterical laugh as she too, placed a joint in her mouth.

Her hands shook as she sat down and lighted it up with the lighter. She hadn't had one in quite a while, and it only took a few puffs before she felt the familiar buzzing in her head.

Getting intoxicated and helpless beside the Ogre seemed like a bad idea at first, but immediately Barbara dismissed the pointless worry. She'd always been at his mercy, she doubted this was any different.

They silently smoked their joints.

The marijuana had been merely a convenient excuse that presented itself, but it turned out she _had_ needed it. The drug took effect fast enough, and she relaxed, body and soul. Like a strained rubber band that finally went loose. She lay her head back against the couch and took out another joint.

Jason arched an eyebrow at her. He finished his own but didn't take another one.

"There was a time when I was angry too, just like you," he said.

Barbara turned her head to look at him, her vision of him seemed so close, yet so far, like she was dreaming. "Why?"

"I was angry at my mother, who left me as soon as she gave birth to me," Jason said, affected by the drug as well and letting down his own walls. "Then I was angry at another woman…she led me on, making me believe that she was my mother. It was all just a game to her. She told me no one would ever love me."

A small frown appeared on Barbara's face, maybe it was just her head feeling fuzzy, but it sounded like there was a missing piece to the puzzle. "Why did she say that?"

Jason gazed at Barbara, his eyes slightly unfocused. When he spoke there was an edge to his voice. "Because no one could love such an ugly being."

Barbara blinked several times, her brain felt like pudding. She stared at Jason's handsome face, and a fit of giggles escaped her. "Did…did you just say _ugly_?"

Jason gave her a tight smile. "I didn't use to look like this."

Barbara stopped laughing and frowned. She leaned close to Jason and reached out a hand to touch him. She stroked his forehead, his straight nose, his strong jaw and sexy lips. Baffled, she repeated, "You didn't use to look like this."

"No," he answered quietly.

She burst out a fit of uncontrollable laughter again as understanding dawned on her. Not her fault, the pot was making everything so damned funny. "Will you…will you refer me to your surgeon? I've always wanted bigger boobs…" She took Jason's hand to cup her breast, "My…my mother said I was flat as a board." Another fit of giggles.

Jason gave her breast a gentle squeeze. "Your breasts are fine, I like them _._ "

The way he said it, so genuine, almost asexual, made Barbara a little shy. She cleared her throat. "What happened after that?"

"The woman who I thought was my mother…" his lips curled into a smirk at the memory, "I stabbed her to death and left her body in her house to rot. It was the first time I felt…satisfied."

 _Just like the way she killed her parents._ "I wish I could see that," Barbara whispered lowly and gave him a feral smile, "and your birth mother?"

"I was never able to find her. Whether she's dead or alive, in or out of the city, kidnapped by aliens, I'll never know," Jason said impassively.

Barbara exhaled heavily and took a deep drag of pot. "That's not exactly satisfying."

She moved to take another joint but Jason caught her hand to stop her. "Sometimes we don't always get the closure we want. You killed your parents for what they did to you, but it wasn't enough, was it? You wish you could hear them _admit_ what they did, acknowledge how much pain they'd caused you, you wanted them to say that they're sorry."

Barbara felt herself choke up and pulled her hand back from him as if burned. For a moment she could not speak. _He knew._

"But no, they probably died thinking you were simply crazy. They died thinking they did nothing wrong. That's why you're angry."

"And you're not angry?" Barbara retorted, her tears rolling down her cheeks, "You aren't angry that your mother never loved you, and you can't even ask her why?!"

"I know why," he snapped, losing his composure as Barbara had hit a nerve, "but that doesn't matter. I'm not going to spend my life losing sleep, smoking pot," —he shoved the bag of marijuana off of the table savagely—"pining for her. If she can't love me, then I'll find someone who can."

He sprang up from his spot and pushed Barbara down on the sofa. She gasped, surprised by his sudden actions. He trapped her hands above her head and claimed her lips hungrily. His kiss was demanding, aggressive and Barbara couldn't help but return it, the aftereffects of the drug amplifying every sensation. He stripped her out of her dress and she moaned his name loudly, welcoming his invasion.

And the words kept ringing in her head.

 _If they couldn't love her, then she'll find someone who can._

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 **Author's note:** Any feedback is much appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gotham.

 **Warning:** Violence (a little...?), nonconsenusal use of whips.

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 **3**

 _Three – Third time's the charm_

Jason was a very cautious person, hence all the locks and shackles and cameras. Because who he was now, the life that he'd created for himself, the true love that he'd spent years looking for…he couldn't let any of that fall apart.

But he knew when to reward good behaviour as well, and Barbara had been nothing but good. She'd started sleeping normal again, and she'd blossomed. She seemed happy to see him, her smile was radiant and she listened so well…

So he gave her what all women needed: surprise gifts, special date nights, and to a certain extent, freedom. He let her go to the police station to make a statement for her parents' murder, at the same time to clarify that she had been simply out of the city to find inspirations for her art gallery. He'd produced a witness for her, all that so she could roam around Gotham without police at her tail.

But freedom was only an illusion. The more leniency he gave her on the surface, the more control he needed to ensure that she belonged to him. Tracking devices, listening bugs…anything to make certain that if she dared make a move to run, he'd be there to catch her.

Jason was a very cautious person, but he was only human after all. He'd considered many possibilities, but he'd never counted on his own body failing him.

He was sick.

"Jason, are you okay?" He heard Barbara ask, then a cool hand touched his forehead. "You're having a fever."

Then the cool hand touched his neck, and he shivered and pushed the hand away. He covered his head with the quilt and rolled over to continue to sleep.

Barbara blinked and assessed her situation. He _really_ was sick…if there was ever the best time to escape it would be right now.

Her feet itched to turn and walk away, to break down the door and simply walk out and be _free._ But she knew Jason would never stop until he tracked her down. If she wanted to be truly free, there was only one way.

She'd have to kill him while he was vulnerable.

She tentatively poked Jason's shoulder through the blanket, and he did not respond. She stood there, indecisive. Should she get a knife from the kitchen? Bludgeon him with the paper weight? Strangle him with his own belt?

Suddenly Jason stirred, and she jumped. She watched in alarm as Jason popped his head out from under the blanket—his hair disheveled, giving him a more boyish look—and looked at her with tired eyes. She tried not to look guilty, her heart pounding like a hundred banging drums in her chest.

"Barbara," he rasped, then he caught Barbara by the wrist and yanked her onto the bed with him, earning a startled gasp from her. He pulled her back against his front and held her there, his arm wrapped around her torso and his hand rested on the curve of her breast.

"Jason?" Barbara whispered, "Jason?"

She rolled her eyes when there was no response. He'd apparently drifted back to sleep.

She tried to squirm out of his embrace, but he was so damned strong. She was debating whether she should turn around and strangle him when Jason slipped a hand under her shirt and found her round bosom, his lips pressing wet kisses down the curve of her neck.

Barbara's breath caught in her throat instantly. _This was not a good time to do this with him!_ His body was so hot, she thought the heat would melt her. "Wait, Jason…" But he wasn't really listening, he wasn't really _there_ , though his lower body seemed to be grinding against her with a mind of its own.

"Jeez Jason!" Barbara flipped their bodies over and pushed him down on the bed. He groaned as his head plopped down onto the pillow with a thud.

He clutched his head painfully. "Hurts…"

Then he was out again. _If this was not a sign, she didn't know what was._

Barbara took a deep breath, then she picked up his belt off the floor swiftly and looped it around his neck, her hands shaking as she pulled it tight.

As soon as the belt came into contact with his throat Jason broke into a violent fit of coughing, and Barbara let go of the belt with a jolt. Teetering on the brink of sleep Jason caught her hand in his and mumbled, "Barbara…"

With her heart beating like a wild horse Barbara tried to pull her hand back.

"You're the one…" he murmured, delirious.

Uncontrollable resentment swelled in her chest like venom, and she grasped Jason's wrist, struggling to free herself from him. "Why me? Why me?"

Jason furrowed his brows, but he did not loosen his grip. "I love you…"

"Shut up," she hissed, "you don't even know what that means."

"It means…" he mumbled something indistinctly and Barbara had to lean close to his lips to hear him.

Jason finally let go of her and fell back into a slumber. Barbara backed away from him immediately and clutched her wrist, where a bruise was already slowly forming.

She swallowed hard and looked at him with unsettled eyes, her heart disquieted.

 _All you have to do is grab a knife and stab him,_ a voice in her head urged, _he_ _is in no shape to defend himself._

She eventually whirled around and fled to the living room.

 **X X X**

 _One day later_ …

"This is how you live with no fear! You fucking coward! You can't even handle a woman without tying her up? WHY DON'T YOU GO FUCK YOURSE—"

The door suddenly opened with a loud slam and Jason's furious face came into sight. He strode up to Barbara and put his hands on his hips, his eyes full of rage and vexation. "Go on, what were you saying?" His voice was still hoarse from the flu, but the chill in it was evident.

Barbara gulped, her mouth clamped shut. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she panted, and tears filled her fluttering eyes. She croaked, "I should have kil—"

Jason shot her a warning glare, and she stopped.

He paced away from her and took a deep breath, then he walked back in front of her. "When I saw the door broken down again, I thought I'd do anything, _anything_ —" a touch of sadism flickered in his eyes, "—to make sure you'd never dare think of escaping again."

Barbara's eyes were wide and frightened. She recalled how Jason'd woken up a day later and discovered the broken door, then had chained her back up in his kill room, his expression merciless and his ears deaf to her explanations.

And she'd laughed at herself for being so horrendously stupid.

Jason cocked his head and looked into her eyes. "But you only broke the door down to let the doctor in, you weren't thinking of escaping."

"I thought you didn't believe me," Barbara said stiffly.

Jason glanced around the ceiling, then turned his eyes back to her. "Cameras. I looked at the videos and I saw some very interesting things."

Cameras. Of course. Barbara suddenly had difficulty pulling air into her lungs. She stared at him with trepidation.

"I saw you call the doctor, break the door open and let him in. I saw you take care of me, feed me and help me change my clothes…" he covered his mouth in a pensive manner, "that's after you tried to kill me with a belt."

Barbara blinked and a tear fell free.

"Is there anything you want to tell me?"

She shook her head rigidly, unspeaking.

"What did I say to you?"

"What?"

"I said something to you, then you decided to call the doctor. What did I say to you?" Jason asked. This woman was infuriating. She was _the one_ , he was certain, but the way she kept going back and forth between resisting and submitting was driving him mad. He needed to know what she'd been thinking, changing from murdering him to taking care of him.

"You," Barbara gave a humorless laugh, "you don't remember." _Good_ , so that he wouldn't have the satisfaction of knowing how pathetic she was.

Jason narrowed his eyes. He was still not feeling well, and his patience was running particularly low today. "Don't test me."

Barbara turned her head away, and the faint smirk on her lips was enough to push Jason over the edge.

He walked over to the front of the room and took a leather whip off of the wall. To be frank, a lot of the tools here were for instilling fear rather than actual use. He had never had to resort to torture, either the women were or weren't the one, and he kept or killed them.

Barbara was a different case. He knew she was the one. He'd seen it: her darkness, her pain, her struggle. She was the one who could understand him, who he could share everything with.

But he was _so_ sick of her defiance.

Barbara's eyes went wide as Jason advanced on her with the whip. He pulled her dress up to her waist to expose her stomach and legs. "This isn't going to be pleasant," he warned, "last chance."

If eyes could kill, the glower on her face would be enough to kill him a thousand times over.

So he moved back and brought the whip down across her skin.

Barbara yelped as the whip hit her and left a searing pain on her thigh. She clenched her teeth and shut her eyes as Jason whipped her again and again, leaving red marks all over her. Sweat broke out across her body, and she cried out in pain when the whip lashed her sensitive waist.

Jason paused and looked at her. "Do you have an answer for me?"

Barbara breathed hard and gave him a dismissive glance. "You'd better kill me, because if you don't…I'll try to kill you again."

Jason tossed the whip onto the floor and went to get another whip. This one had metal chains on the end and was heavier. He had never used this thing, but he'd seen it being used in Fox Glove. It should go way beyond her pain tolerance.

This time he did not hold back.

The whip cracked through the air and landed on her side, and Barbara screamed. It was a splitting pain, like her skin was torn apart. She did not even have time to breathe when Jason hit her again.

"Are you crazy?!" She shrieked in agony, her body writhing.

Jason clicked his tongue in displeasure. "I get that a lot." Then he swung the whip again.

The whip struck her and she bit down on her lip, breaking into a sob. The pain was too much. Who—whoever had invented that tool was a monster! The whip seemed to slice into her and scorch her skin. "No…stop…"

Jason stopped and looked up at her, one hand on his hip, waiting.

Barbara panted and sniffled. "You…you said you loved me, alright?"

"That's it?" Jason asked.

She nodded.

He brought the whip down again cruelly, adding more force. The vicious whip dragged over her broken skin and Barbara's scream caught in her throat. She whimpered, having lost the energy to scream any more.

"That was for lying." Jason's face hardened, his jaw tense. He told her he loved her all the time, he doubted that'd been what changed her mind.

Barbara sobbed weakly as her tired body slumped forward. She saw Jason move again in the corner of her eye and flinched. "Please, no…" Her skin felt like it was ripping, from the side of her waist down to her thigh.

Everything was burning and hurting _so_ much.

Jason considered her state. She was at her limits, both mentally and physically. Such a stubborn woman. He lifted her chin, forcing her to face him, and waited.

Tears kept rolling down Barbara's cheeks, her tearful blue eyes were the most beautiful thing Jason had ever seen. There were fear, fragility, and a sliver of yearning, and he felt a flash of possessiveness.

"You said, you loved me," she whispered almost inaudibly, "and that it meant you'd never abandon me."

Jason had no recollection of that. "And why couldn't you tell me that?"

"Because," Barbara huffed a teary laugh, "I wanted to believe it, and look where it got me."

"No," Jason said firmly. "What got you here is that you're so damned stubborn." He looked her up and down and exhaled exasperatedly, "Look at you, you're making this so hard for both of us." He brushed back her sweaty hair from her face and kissed her forehead, and Barbara started sobbing again. _Was it really why? Was she simply too stubborn for her own good?_

"This didn't need to happen," he chided, "but I wasn't going to tolerate your defiance anymore." He held her chin and looked into her eyes, serious. "Either you are mine or you are not. You can't stay here but keep pushing the boundaries. What's your choice?"

Barbara lowered her eyes and caught sight of the horrid weapon that Jason had just used on her. Small traces of blood had stained the metal, and dread filled her at once.

If she did not belong to Jason, then there would be only one place she belonged to. Out on the street, her body cold and lifeless. And there were so many things that Jason could do to her before death could relieve her…

"Yours," she whispered, misty-eyed, "I want to be yours, please."

Jason took her in his arms gently and murmured against her hair, "Good girl."

.  
.

The comfort of the fluffy bed was much better than the cold dungeon, that was for sure. Barbara hissed in pain as Jason applied topical antibiotics on her wounds. Purple bruises had started to form around the whip lashes. Some would leave scars. Her face scrunched up at the stings.

Being a tad adventurous in bed she had always wanted to try erotic whipping, but now she shuddered at the thought of a whip.

"You okay?" Jason asked.

Barbara smiled nervously. "I was just thinking…I don't like whips."

Jason's lips twitched into a half-smile and he turned his attention back to her wounds. "Don't give me any reasons to use it and you'll never see it again."

Barbara nodded, and couldn't help but observe how thorough and gentle he was with treating her wounds. Like he actually _cared_ about her well-being, and a question started tugging at her mind. "Jason?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you…enjoy it when you whipped me?"

"I wouldn't say so," he answered easily.

Barbara blinked. "Did it bother you then? That I was…in pain?" _That you were hurting me?_

Jason looked up at her with confused eyes, like the concept was foreign to him. "No. But under different circumstances I'd rather see you smile than see you cry."

Tears stung her eyes and she hooked a finger around Jason's finger. "Did you mean it then? What you said?"

Jason raised up to press a kiss on her forehead and said softly, "I was so sick I was practically dead meat, I don't think I could be lying."

She tugged at his hand. "You didn't answer me."

"Yes, I meant it," he kissed her on the lips, "I love you."

 _That's not good enough. Jim has told her he loved her a million times and look where he is now. By Leslie Thompkins' side._ She tugged at his hand again. "What does that mean?"

"It means I'll never abandon you. Now let me finish my job," he murmured and went back to treat her wounds.

When Jason curled up in bed with her Barbara had to admit that feeling was probably better than being dead. Her entire body hurt when she tried to move, so she tugged at Jason's shirt instead so he'd move closer.

She pressed her face to his shoulder and sighed with relief.

She wondered how long this feeling would last.

Maybe it could last forever…until her stubbornness got the better of her and the battle would start again.

 **-End-**

* * *

 **Author's note:** Oh God poor Barbara I'm such a horrible person, I know...

I'm officially over Jason and Barbara…since you know…he's not exactly alive and kicking *palm to head* But I had so much fun writing about these two! Thank you everyone who has read and reviewed. I hope you enjoyed the read.


	4. Chapter 4

**Warning:** Contains violence and smut. You've been warned.

 **Author's note:** I know I know…I said I was over these two. Now I _really_ am over them. By the way, the dynamics between Jason and Barbara pretty much scream SEX. Couldn't help but write some sexy stuff between them.

This story is something that happened sometime after last chapter, it's not really a standalone, but it's not really a part of the main story either. I just don't feel like opening a new story so I'm placing it here. Enjoy!

* * *

 **X X X**

 **A Night at Foxglove**

 **X X X**

 _Foxglove_

Jason sat at the table and took a sip of his Scotch, waiting patiently. He was in a fairly good mood tonight.

Until Barbara walked out of the ladies' room.

He frowned when she came back to the table. _When did she get changed?_ She was wearing a deep-V leather bra top and tight leather shorts, exposing much of her creamy skin. The outfit was completed by the leather choker around her neck. Unlike her usual classy, stylish self, she looked like one of the employees in here.

"What're you wearing?"

Barbara sat down beside him. "What you like," she said with a hint of defiance.

"Go get changed," he ordered.

She looked at him for a few moments, debating. "No."

Jason gave her a hard look, then pulled her closer by the arm and whispered, "If you're trying to make me angry, you've succeeded. You can go get changed now, or I'll help you."

Barbara glanced at him with anxiety. _If she pushed any further, would he whip her again?_ Panic rose in her at the prospect, but she was… _angry_.

He had flirted with the prostitute at the bar. She'd seen him waiting for his Scotch, and all of a sudden the brunette beside him had been all he could see. He'd dared…lift her chin and gaze at her like he'd wanted to devour her. Then he had tucked a bill into her bra and the brunette'd planted a kiss on his cheek before winking at him and walking away.

"Why? Is this outfit not to your liking?" she challenged, pressing her body against him, "Or am _I_ not to your liking?"

Jason narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw. Then suddenly a server approached them.

"Good evening sir, the gentleman over there is wondering if you'd like to share your partner for the night." The server pointed at a man at another table.

Both Jason and Barbara turned to look at the middle-aged man. He had an angular face, though not bad-looking, there was something nasty in his smile. Barbara hated him already. He raised his glass at them.

"No," Jason said, and Barbara exhaled with relief. When the server went over to deliver the message Barbara couldn't help provoking him, "Why not? You don't like me that much anyway."

Jason shot her an irritated stare. "Do you want me to?"

Barbara pursed her lips and glanced at the man again, who was still gazing at them with interest. _Ugh._ He gave Barbara the creeps (Funny, considering Jason was the serial killer here). She turned her body away in disgust. "I don't like the way he's looking at me."

Jason stood up and pulled her up with him. "Don't think you're getting away with this. We're going to have a nice, long chat when we get home."

They were half way through the club when the man came in front of them and blocked their way.

"Please, don't go yet." He held out his hand, "Nice to meet you, mister."

In Foxglove people were cautious not to easily give out their names.

Jason flexed his jaw and shook his hand politely. "How can I help you?"

"You have a very beautiful pet here," the man turned his eyes to the blonde, and a scowl appeared on her face. "I'd be happy to offer you a price to rent her for a night."

Barbara wanted to slap him. _We. Said. No._

Jason started to shake his head no, but the man'd already reached out a hand and fondled Barbara's whip scars on the waist.

Goosebumps rose all over her skin at once and she smacked his hand away, her face flushed with anger.

"I do believe we share similar tastes," he said to Jason, mesmerized.

"That's good to know." A corner of Jason's mouth lifted into a stiff smile. He licked his lips. "I, uh, was worried for a sec that the three of us wouldn't be…compatible. But now…perhaps sharing isn't out of the question. "

Barbara looked up at him sharply. Hurt appeared on her face, but before she could say anything Jason squeezed her hand to silence her.

"Really?" the man asked, with a note of thrill in his voice.

"On one condition," Jason said, and he lowered his voice, "I'd like to be discreet about this encounter. No one should know about this."

 **X X X**

 _Jason's apartment_

The man tried to scream, but could only whine against the duct tape on his mouth. Sweat broke out across his forehead as he regarded the couple standing before him with dread.

He'd been knocked out as soon as he'd stepped into this apartment. He'd then woken up tied to a chair, his mouth taped shut and his hands cuffed to the wooden table in front of him. But the highest object of fear was the set of tools that was laid out on the table before him. Each one sharp and deadly.

Barbara looked at the man with a savage interest, then she turned to look at Jason with curious eyes.

Jason didn't look up from the phone—the man's cellphone—in his hand, as he made sure their unfortunate guest hadn't told anybody his whereabouts. "Do whatever you want, Barbara. You're a big girl. But whichever hand he touched you with, it has to go first."

A radiant smile spread across Barbara's face. She trotted over to the table and picked up a small knife. She furrowed her brows. _This would take too long._ She switched to the biggest knife and winked at the bound man. "Better _._ "

The man started to whine frantically as Barbara leaned close to him, his eyes widened in horror. Barbara grinned. "Didn't your mama teach you not to touch what's not yours?"

She swung her arm back and brought the knife down, and the knife cut into the man's wrist and met his bone. The man let out a muffled scream, his body writhing violently as blood gushed out from his hand.

Barbara held the knife tight. She tried to push it down, but it wouldn't go further; she tried to pull it out, to no avail either.

The man wailed and wept and whimpered in excruciating pain, his skin covered with cold sweat and his face quickly turning pallid.

"It's…stuck…!" Barbara grunted as she struggled with the knife, its hilt slippery from the blood.

Jason shook his head. "You're making a mess." He put down the phone and picked up a rubber apron from the shelf.

Barbara watched with fascination as he casually put on the apron and a pair of black rubber gloves, his demeanor smooth and relaxed. _He was going to butcher this man…with grace?_

She had much to learn.

Jason came beside her and swiftly dislodged the knife, eliciting a tortured cry from the man. Blood squirted all over them; the man shook his head in desperation when Jason quickly brought the knife down again, seemingly effortless, and the hand disconnected with its owner.

A strangled cry was all they heard before the room fell into silence.

Barbara's eyes went wide at the brutal image in front of her. "Is he dead?"

"With that much blood loss, he's _dying_."

Barbara picked up a smaller knife from his toolbox, one that had a thinner blade. She ran her tongue across her front teeth. "But I'm not done. I don't like the way he was looking at me."

Jason's lips twisted into an approving smile. _She wanted his eyes._ "Help yourself."

 **X X X**

When Barbara finished her shower, Jason had already done the clean-up. His kill room was once again impeccably clean. Everything was no different from usual, except for the faint smell of bleach and the extra bags of garbage in the corner of the room.

"That was fun," she chirped.

Jason turned around and murmured, "I'm glad you had fun." He stroked her hair, the affection in his eyes evident. He couldn't deny the deep connection that he felt with Barbara tonight. It was satisfying to see that she was no longer constrained by the prison that had once trapped her.

"But you're not getting away with your little tantrum in the club," he said, holding her chin tightly in his fingers. "What was that about?"

Barbara's eyes fluttered nervously as she took in his now humorless face. Being with the Ogre was like being at the mercy of the weather, except one could not rile up the weather, like the way she did at the club.

"The outfit was for your benefits," she held her chin up, "you liked it when the brunette wore it, didn't you?"

Jason frowned. _The brunette?_

Then understanding dawned on him and his lips curled into a tight smile. "You're jealous of the prostitute at the club, so you decided to dress like one to make me angry."

Barbara pursed her lips, neither admitting nor denying.

"Well, now you have my attention." Jason picked up her hand and brought it up to the ceiling chains—Barbara gasped in protest, and he shushed her—then he cuffed her hand to a manacle.

He secured her other hand to the chains, and Barbara knew better than to fight him. She swallowed, her mouth dry. "Are you going to whip me?"

"No, I'm not gonna hurt you, just gonna…" his eyes crinkled as he smiled, "enjoy my prostitute for the night."

He brought a gag to her mouth and she bit down on it, her eyes shooting daggers at him.

Barbara could feel her face heating up in anger. This was extremely, outrageously unfair! _He_ flirted with a prostitute and _she_ was the one getting punished! "Uuu aaa whhoo!"

Jason gazed at her, his handsome smile plastered to his face. "Did you just call me an asshole?"

Barbara shook her head. _He couldn't say she did. She was gagged. She had the benefits of doubt._

"Oh, Barbara…" Jason yanked his tie off of his neck and tied it around her eyes.

Barbara breathes hard, her heartbeat thudding faster in the darkness. Jason unbuttoned her night gown and removed her panties, and she could feel her body getting warmer, from anxiety and excitement.

Then she heard Jason walking away, followed by the sounds of the cupboard opening and closing. When he came back, he parted her legs and Barbara could feel something pushed against her sex. She whimpered lowly from her throat.

Suddenly the object came to life—a _vibrator!_ —vibrating against her clit. Barbara whined sharply and moved away from it, and earned a sting on her ass. _A whip_. She jumped in surprise.

"Next time you move, it's gonna hurt," Jason whispered in her ear.

She moved back and let it touch her and groaned softly. Jason started planting kisses on her ear from behind. He cupped her breasts and teased her nipples with his fingertips. She couldn't have held back her moans if she'd tried.

Jason's erection pressed against the small of her back, the vibrator buzzing against her clit was unrelenting, building sweet, mind-numbing pleasure in her body. Like a compliant puppet in his hand, she was quickly becoming wet. Without warning Jason pushed two fingers inside her.

Barbara whimpered shakily, her muffled moans like music to his ears. He pumped his fingers in and out of her and she gripped the chains tight, moving her hips needily to give him better access. She moaned in ecstasy; her legs trembled as the vibrator hummed against her, persistent. Suddenly the fingers pumped harder, once, twice—and she screamed against her gag as her orgasm hit her fast and hard.

Barbara panted heavily as Jason withdrew his fingers. She whimpered and moved back when the vibrator continued to assault her sensitive pussy.

And the whip lashed her hip again, this time harder. She yelped in pain and moved right back, letting the vibrator touch her swollen clit.

"If you move again we're switching to your least favourite whip," Jason warned.

Barbara whined pleadingly, "Eeese". The vibrator was too much. Her legs shook and her body writhed, the continuous stimulation was unbearable. She shook her head imploringly.

But gradually the throbbing sensation started to build again in her lower belly, she moaned helplessly as the vibrator played her body like an instrument, pushing her towards another orgasm against her will. She was thirsty and hot. Her wetness dripped down her thigh and her cheeks burned with humiliation. Jason wasn't touching her anymore. Was he still here? Was he going to watch her as she came all over the place, having no control of her own body whatsoever? The thought sent surges of perverse pleasure throughout her, and she came again, her body convulsing.

She mewled weakly, out of breath, then she heard the door opening and closing. _Had he left?!_ She tugged at her chains and whined in protest, but was soon claimed by the torturing sensations again.

When he finally came back and released her from the device she could hardly walk. She was sore between her legs and exhausted. She docilely let Jason lead her to the couch.

Jason unzipped his fly and let his cock spring free, then he pulled her down onto his lap, making her straddle him.

"No…" Barbara pleaded. She was so sore, it would hurt to ride him. "I can't…"

Jason smiled with mischief in his eyes. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "That's how a man treats a prostitute, with no regard for her feelings or comfort. Are you still jealous of her?"

Barbara shook her head wearily. He'd _flirted_ with the brunette, but she could never win with him.

Jason lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. "I looked at her because her eyes were exactly like yours. The same shade of blue, so bright and deep…like I'd fall right in. But she wasn't you, and I only want you."

Barbara couldn't stop her lips from curving into a smile. _He was lucky she believed him. If he ever betrayed her…she'd find a way to kill him. Once she regained her energy._

"Never dress like that in public again," he told her.

Barbara nodded, still smiling. _He was jealous._

"You can't leave me hanging like this though," he murmured and placed her hand on his hardness.

Barbara bit her lip and batted her eyelashes at him coyly. Then she slid onto the floor and took him in her mouth.

Jason groaned and gently twisted her hair in his hand. "Why would you ever be jealous? I've spent years looking for you, Barbara…" he sucked in a breath when she swirled her tongue around him. "You're the one, not any of them," he rasped.

Barbara couldn't respond when her mouth was full. But she thought Jason had no reason to be jealous either. She was his captive, and had failed again and again to escape. With the instruments of fear and tenderness, he had a firm grip on her, yet he still got jealous.

Maybe they would always be possessive with each other, a result of the unyielding infatuation between them.

It wasn't sunshine and flowers. It was like alcohol, like drugs. It was like the things that would slowly erode her but she could not live without.

It was so real that it was palpable, like she could clutch it in her hands and never let go.

 **\- End -**

* * *

 **Author's note:** Come on! If Barbara and Jason were together, what else would they even do? They'd probably spend all night killing and playing…playing and killing…endless looping.


End file.
